Category Archives: The Liminal Times

After the Apology


buy Pregabalin Lyrica uk After the Apology
But the oath of a storm
isn’t thunder,
it’s patience.

Sky spent the day pretending
she never broke a promise.

Sun on the sidewalks,
palm leaves shaking off yesterday
like dogs after a bath,
as though nothing ever flooded.

You could look up and think
the blue is perma-dyed,
that weather doesn’t lie,
that clouds don’t lurk offshore
planning their ambush.

Tonight the horizon will smudge,
a gray line will draw itself
across the edge of our certainty,
and the sky will remember
what it swore.

Handprints

how to buy Latuda online Handprints

we learn to keep climbing
even when the ledge
doesn’t promise shit.

a good reach,
a little strength,
that’s all the world asks
and maybe
a small kindness
on the way up.

because the climb
doesn’t end at the step,
it ends when you stop
believing there’s one more.

so you believe,
not because you’re holy
or brave,
but because someone once
pulled you up,
and their handprint
never left your skin.

Backbeat

Backbeat

I have danced in public once in my life.
For my wedding.
Took a lesson.

But I secretly dance every day,
though I guess it’s no longer a secret.

For the dogs,
and the setting shadow
against the back wall.

All attempted rhythms
and contorted shapes,
but my Byrne is spot on.

They know:
if sound and fury
finds a backbeat,
it signifies everything.

And sometimes,
when the song ends
and the room cools again,

I stand still in the quiet.
One breath,
two,
and wait to see
if the house will dance back.

Most nights it doesn’t.
But some evenings,
the dogs catch it:
their paws thump the floor,
their tails swing in time,
and the room moves again,
alive in its own applause.